Back in the Day (Chapter I)

[Murometz]

Ghouls Galore!


--Talia ran like the proverbial wind toward Vee’s drastic shout. He wouldn’t be spying out the camp and screaming his head off, if it wasn’t life and death, she thought, or in this case, life and undeath. She had seen zombies before when her erstwhile caravan had passed a particularly bizarre village once, but she had never encountered ghouls. Why couldn’t it be more gnolls, she thought ruefully, she was beginning to figure out how to fight them. Fans aloft, she soon spied the pair, Aerex and Vee, forty feet ahead, though she could not yet see any opponent. To throw or not to throw, that was the question.

--Aerex had left a while ago to follow Vee, Talia ran off, and Tristan, ever ready to thwart evil in all its forms, followed as well, at a slower but more deliberate pace, raising his mace once more. That left Moruz, Kadarin, Percy, the groaning and moaning Dujek and Aethelstan alone with the two bound, stinking of blood and piss, gnolls. Kadarin looked about nervously. In a span of one week his life drastically changed, he allowed himself a moment of self-pity. How much more can I take?

--Moruz was silent. He noticed everything and missed nothing as his half-closed eyes cast about the bloodbath. Fat, thick flies were beginning to buzz and hover over the bloody bodies, both those of the living and those of the dead. Moruz pondered. If his help was needed, and Tristan would call for him, he would come to the rescue of his friends, but that would entail leaving Kadarin here alone, and that wouldn’t be prudent. The mage did look properly valiant, despite it all however, Moruz pontificated, leaning as he was on the fearsome gnollish spear, and keeping a nervous eye on the gnolls.

--Percy was now passed out from blood-loss and exhaustion. He lay there, barely breathing, now flat on his back. The gnolls began to chatter in their tongue. They sounded like they were arguing.

--With a sickening Thwack, Vee’s bolt hit the halfling ghoul square in its forehead, burying itself half-way into the skull. The small, but terrifying creature did not even pause or blink its dead, fish eyes. It merely dropped the head it was holding and advanced. Great, Vee mused between pangs of terror, anyone else and that’s a kill shot!

--Aerex lunged and stabbed. It was like burying a knife into butter. Deep into the creature’s shoulder, did the sabre sink, a pure killing shot if ever there was one, not unlike the killing shot of one of the infamous Taoroderros, or Jantirian bullfighters. Aerex pulled the bloodless blade back out in one single motion. The halfling ghoul wasn’t impressed, or if he was he wasn’t showing it. Gingerly, with almost a terrible gentleness, the ghoul bit down on the flesh above Aerex’s knee, grabbing his leg with both stubby, black-clawed hands. Aerex first felt a sense of euphoria, for only a second, before he felt every nerve ending go numb, and every limb and muscle freeze. He was unable to move suddenly, completely paralyzed! He was now afraid. The terrifying sensation of his body petrifying like that of a statue, was almost too much for the investigator. The halfling began chewing. Aerex would have screamed if he could.

--The gnolls continued to chatter. Moruz was now contemplating simply killing them, when he noticed two things. Aethelstan and Dujek were rising, while from the opposite direction of where Vee and the others now were, Moruz could see small, stout, loping forms appearing in the mists. He could make out at least eight creatures, which all shockingly looked a lot like Percy from thsi distance and the fog! They were sixty feet away now, making their way directly toward the group through the mist.

[Ria Hawk]

Talia still couldn't quite make out the enemy, although it looked like Aerex had gone all funny.  She decided not to throw; if she couldn't see her target and she might hit an ally, it was a stupid thing to do.  She'd be up there in a few seconds anyway.

[Dozus]

Aerex struggled to gasp, both from shock and for oxygen.  He tried desparately to kick, kick the thing now attached to his leg, but nothing happened; synapses fired, but the nerves did not respond.  Under different circumstances, he might have noticed how distinctly different urban criminal combat was from fighting undead creatures in the forest.  Instead, panic set in.  Though his mouth was silent, Aerex's mind screamed.

[Shadoweagle]

Moruz broke down the situation quickly in his head: Aethelstan and Dujek were only just regaining consciousness. Kadarin had used several spells so he would probably not have many in reserve. The two remaining gnolls were gibbering to one another, and Percy was unconscious. Eight figures loped ominously towards them through the mist. This topped with the distant cry of "ghoul!" from Vee caused Moruz to tighten his grip on his weapon - things were going to get ugly...

The Glass Shifter came to a decision and moved; he grabbed that Idol which had previously caused one gnoll to leer at him, and moved to the two hyena-men; "Here is my offer: I can cut you free if you agree to aid us in this," Moruz nodded towards the eight shambling figures slowly making their way towards them, "If you help us, you may have your freedom; but if you try to flee I will hunt you down myself; and your deaths will come slowly. Otherwise, you can stay tied up, and if we fail, you are at their mercy. Make your choice fast." Moruz turned the idol in his hand, studying it with one eye while he awaited the decision of the Gnolls.
The undead were not uncommon in the deserts; many outsiders who enter underestimate the harsh land and soon find themselves dead; some rise again. And by the way the gnoll stared at Moruz as he held the idol of its god, he guessed it may be some sort of shaman or priest of their kind. That could prove useful.

<<I suppose this is a... what? Pursuation check? Intimidation check? Anyway! if the Gnolls agree, Moruz will cut their bonds and let them pick weapons out of those on the ground, but this doesn't mean he'll trust them: and an eye will be kept on them at all times.>>

[Wulfhere]

The young cleric lay on his side, awestruck at the vision:  The blessed Saint Senren and Andur, the Lord of Justice, radiant before him.  And yet, something about the Saint’s gesture seemed to suggest that Aethelstan should look behind him.  He turned, looking over his shoulder.  He could see Dujek lying nearby, a strange greenish aura flickering around him.  A bit further away, Moruz approached a pair of gnolls lying on the ground.  These three also seemed to be surrounded by a nimbus of light, although their auras were definitely brighter.  The desert warrior’s words echoed as if they had been shouted from a distant tunnel; they made no sense to Aethelstan’s detached consciousness.

Slightly more distant now, he saw it.  A darkness approached them; a tenebrous shadow rushing to envelop them, to extinguish their souls’ light within its lightless depths.  Aethelstan vaguely sensed that it wore material form, but his mind disregarded this.  “It doth disguise itself, but ‘tis of no import what cloak it dons!  This evil shall not stand before Andur’s holiness!” he stated to no one in particular.

Vaguely, with a sense deeper than his clouded vision, Athelstan knew that some thoughtful soul had left his mace ready at hand, as if he could have leapt from his repose to smite a foe coming upon him.  While he had no strength to wield his killing tool, it served him well as a prop while he laboriously clambered to his knees.  Grasping his holy symbol, he held the cheaply painted pewter flower out before him and called forth the holy energies of Andur, the righteous justice of St. Senren’s patron.  He could feel the energy of life and goodness pouring forth from him to drive back the darkness that threatened to overwhelm them all.

Drained by the effort, he fell again into oblivion.

[Scrasamax]

Whip discarded and crossbow expended Vee leapt into action. If he waited too long it could be the death of the inspector, and that didn't seem like a good thing, no matter how quarrelsome the man could be. Vee flicked Red Hatchet's throwing axe into his hand  and grabbed the ghoul by the side of the face, digging his fingers deep into the soft flesh of the creature's scalp. The blade flashed in the predawn light as he buried it brutally across the neck of the creature.

He had no thought of cutting of its ability to breath, or to sever oh so thick arteries. He had something much more simple and much more brutal in mind. He was going to hack it's head off.

(Going to attempt a Backstab ((can you do that with a non-stabbing weapon?)) and attack the ghoul from behind.)

[Murometz]

--As Moruz addressed the gnolls they ceased their chatter, squinting and snarling up at the glass warrior, attempting to understand his words.

‘’Yess..F’rreeess us. G’nolloshyi fightss forr frrr’endss! Ge’ness vicraugh, gehhash’ ena, Atu nesshega!”

At the sight of the approaching “Docrae Omatu”, the gnolls lost their cool completely thrashing against their bonds and glaring at Moruz. The glass warrior assumed that the slavering beasts understood his intent and vice versa.

--Aethelstan was floating in and out of consciousness as he struggled to stand, using his mace for support. He had to assume his orison would work. He knew the prayer well, and knew that if St. Senren was with him now, Andur’s holy rebuke would shatter the ebon coils encroaching on the companions, turning back the approaching darkness. He stood as straight as he could, seeing only swirls of blackness through his eyes.

“St. Senren HEAR me now! The earth has vomited forth its filth! Help me now to smite this malevolence with thy inimitable Might!”

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<<<Backstab not appropriate due to current situation.>>>

--Vee grabbed hold of the creature’s patchy, clay-like, scalp and yanked it back He began sawing off the vile ghoul's neck, with Red Hatchet’s fine steel hand-axe. The ghoul barely noticed. It was intent on eating as much of Aerex’s leg  as it could. No blood came gushing out of the neck, as Vee cut deep into the flesh around the throat.

And so it went, while the paralyzed Aerex was watching himself being eaten, Vee sawed furiously at the erstwhile halfling’s cold, clammy neck. As he did he glanced briefly up at Aerex. The man’s eyes were wide open, and the sheer terror that reflected in them, chilled Vee to the bone. Quite suddenly, like a feeding shark, the ghoul tore away from Aerex’s ravaged thigh, and turned its attention toward Vee, even as the desperate rogue was severing its neck. The ghoul’s celerity belied its form. Somehow it twisted quickly and bit hard into Vee’s hand, the same one that was clutching the creature’s head. The rogue felt a weird flow of euphoria rush through his veins like adrenelin, then felt as though he was being constricted. A few seconds of alternating pangs of pain and waves of numbness coursed through his body. Somehow, he didn’t know how, he resisted the creature’s paralytic attack. “One more strike!” he thought, suddenly exultant, as he raised the hand-axe high, bringing it back down on the creature’s rotted bone and sinew with as much force as he could muster, such force, that the ghoul’s head finally came off, hitting the mud with a dull, anti-climactic throop.

Vee looked to the immobilized Aerex, and then glanced at his own mangled hand. He looked up in shock suddenly, seeing Talia bearing down on him! He just stared dumbly as she kept coming.

--Talia had finally spied the halfling ghoul that was attacking the pair of rogues. She also noticed another stumbling halfling, no doubt another flesh-eating walking corpse in the distance, coming up silently behind Vee, from the direction of the camp. At the last moment she veered away from Keykold, and struck the diminutive creature now only feet behind the rogue, with both fans, first one then the other in quick, efficient succession. The creature looked up at her briefly with malignant eyes, then fell to the ground, both grubby arms now detached from its ghastly body. The ghoul was no more. Talia examined her fans in disgust at the pus-like paste, which now stained them.

[Murometz]

--While Dujek sat limply with his back to the approaching ghouls attempting to make the voices in his head go away and fighting back waves of nausea and pain, his familiar was busy burying itself in the dirt, upon spotting the coming danger.

--Tristan was half way between the two groups, when something made him pause and turn back toward Moruz. In the haze he saw the Octet of Undeath quickly closing the distance to the glass warrior, Kadarin, the two injured companions, the dying Percy and the gnolls. Frustration, followed by great anger infused the priest. He hesitated. Whatever had a hold of the screaming Vee, at least Talia and Aerex had gone to him. Moruz on the other hand was alone, with a spell-drained mage. They needed him more! Turning back, he willed his weary legs forward, reciting Trigu’s prayer of Holy Retribution in his mind. If Aethelstan was too weakened to rebuke the living dead he knew that Trigu’s power would be their only chance!

--Moruz braced himself for battle, silently and fearlessly, as was his way. He studied the coming ghouls, ascertaining strengths and weaknesses. He then quickly looked to the gnolls again, who were in near hysterics, gibbering incomprehensibly, seemingly pleading with the glass warrior. He now had to make a decision!

--From out of nowhere the pitiful, mute albino boy, who had been hiding in a patch of reeds, emerged shyly and went over to the wide-eyed Kadarin, who was staring at the coming ghouls and wondering what his best move would be. Running away, seemed to be the “plan” his inner voice kept recommending. The pale boy, walked over to the mage, and extended his hand to Kadarin, like a young son would to a father. Not noticing the boy at first, Kadarin recoiled, thinking it was a ghoul that had touched him. When he noticed it was his fellow erstwhile bandit prisoner, he sighed and humored the lamentable youth, by taking his hand in his. They stood bravely, as eight halfling ghouls kept coming.

For a moment, Kadarin suddenly felt a strange, gradual, energy coursing subtly through him. He looked down at the boy in astonishment. The boy stared back, an empty look on his face, and squeezed the mage’s hand tighter.



Cannot go on without some...rest, Aethelstan thought feeling himself falling backwards to the ground. He began seeing visions of his saint and his god! He knew this was the end...and a new beginning. This was all for the best then. Moruz would vanquish the ghouls, of this he had no doubt now.

Moruz could see the priest smiling, as he collapsed back down to the earth!

Aethelstan had not destroyed the ghouls, nor turned them away. Not a single one shrank back in horror or turned irrevocably to dust, as Moruz and Kadarin had imagined they would, when the priest first began roaring Andur’s Rebuke, d**ning the dead back to the nether hells that spawned them. In fact, Aethelstan’s holy prayer seemed to have the opposite of the intended effect. Hearing the holy words they abhorred, the ghouls all charged the priest at once! As he lay on his back in the muck, the halflings swarmed like starving rats, ignoring Moruz, Kadarin, and the gnolls for the time being.

--The gnolls shrieked, howled, and yipped, stretching their bonds, pleading with Moruz, in their ugly tongue.

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--Aerex began to recover feeling in his feet. The pleasant sensation of pain never felt so good. The thief smiled and collapsed from the blood loss. <<<-3 hp’s>>>

[Chaosmark]

Tristan's eyes blazed in fury as the horde of soulless monsters rushed the other cleric, intent on swarming him, much as ants do a chained animal. He knew that anger would interfere with his use as a divine tool in this world, but right this moment, the undead facing the group were more than enough to inspire holy wrath. He prepared himself to become a conduit for divine energy as he came to rest in front of the fallen Aethelstan.

<<OOC: Will use Smite, then Exorcism as possible, on the undead (as if that wasn't obvious)>>

[Shadoweagle]

The decision was made. Moruz pulled the ceremonial hand-scythe from his back and slashed through the bonds holding the gnolls. He handed that Idol back to the one who was eyeing it earlier. "Try to remove their heads or crush their bones..."
The Glass shifter turned to spot the ghouls, and blinked at the sight to Aethelstan becoming swallowed in a sea of the undead. The normally calm Ouzquin Dremorix growled beneath his breath and charged, switching to the Ouzala in mid-sprint and swinging it violently at the nearest ghoul's head as he closed in.

[Murometz]

Feeding Frenzy

--The gnolls nearly foamed at the snout, when Moruz slashed their bonds with their own ceremonial sickle. The shaman, Uussaz Fur-biter, knew that this particular sickle, or Z'Kilughra, was special. Named Seszgo-Yeenoghu-heejiq, or Yeenoghu's Two-Fingers this sickle had sent many enemies to their deaths over the years.

But the shaman was not brave. As soon as his ropes were cut, the wizened gnoll bolted toward the nearby Laurel Forest, his fellow captive, the Z'Kilughra, and any remorse for his cowardice forgotten, clutching only the black, hideous idol of Yeenoghu to his chest.

The second gnoll, a gray-furred, ugly brute, watched as his shaman loped away. It then lunged toward the nearest long-axe, raising it, snarling with rage and pissing from its arse, began advancing on the ghouls! Golkahss Jeszg knew that fighting alongside the impressive glass warrior, who could rise to the height of a hill giant! was its best chance at survival.

--Trigu's energy surged through Tristan like a lightning bolt of joy. Thrice he d**ned the risen ghouls and thrice his eyes shone with fire. The Third Prayer of Three, was what the sect of Trigu called this particular rebuke. It was meant especially for ghouls and ghasts! As Tristan prayed in a booming, clear voice, Kadarin could notice the drain it was having on the young priest. His scarred cheek brightened to a reddish-pink color. Veins strained against his forehead.

--It seemed to be working! Moruz smiled a grin of joyless mirth as he charged. Five of the halflings suddenly began flicking their biforcated tongues and hissing like serpents, there was no other way Moruz could describe the awful sound the ghouls were making! The same five ghouls turned and sped off from the direction they came, thin wisps of blue smoke coming off their gnarled backs and shoulders. The ghouls fled as if they were being roasted alive.

--The three remaining ghouls cared naught for their own ranks, their morale or their numbers. One savaged Aethelstan's face with its teeth, a second continued feasting on the priests left foot, and a third had disembowled Aethelstan and was now chewing his entrails, drenched as they were in the priest's blood.

--Moruz swung his ouzala at the ghoul eating from Aethelstan's stomach. He impaled its head and ripped back the ouzala, sending bits of putrid, gray flesh flying in all directions. One down, Moruz thought grimly, but it was too late for his comrade.

[Ria Hawk]

Talia looked around.  This was going badly.  Aerex was down, Vee was injured, and these little things were disgusting.  After making sure the ghouls weren't going to get up again, she quickly turned to Aerex, pulling bandages from a pocket in her blouse.  Wounds she could deal with, although those creepy little things looked like they were venomous.  She started bandaging the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.  And hopefully another one of those bastards wouldn't pop up.

((Heal check to stabilize Aerex, keeping an eye out for more ghouls in the immediate vicinity))

[Murometz]

--With Aerex now stabilized, Talia glanced around again. They were not far from the camp now. She could make out the signs of habitation in the distance. A repulsive stench hung in the thick morning air. Talia began to understand why no bandits had yet emerged from the encampment. She turned back again, hearing the muted sounds of battle in the distance. That meant Moruz was probably in over his head in ghouls, or gnolls, or both, she thought, now suddenly exhausted from the exertion and lack of sleep.

--Vee was looking at the impressive head of the unfortunate, new and former owner of his companion's Hemisa, which lay still in the mud, seemingly staring and mocking him.

[Scrasamax]

"Looks like things didn't turn out well for your birthday, did they?" Vee asked the leering head bearing the hemisa. Who else but Jervoe would be wearing the impressive bauble of the exotic glass-shifter? He knelt down as Talia bound Aerex's wounds. He himself had no talent for healing, no notion of muscles and veins. His world was a place of gears and cogs, cyclical springs and sliding weights. He lifted the once proud bandit baron's head. Moruz would be glad to have his glass orb back, and the head would be worth something back in Ganse.

He felt both morbid and giddy. "I would ask Jervoe if their bite is contagious, but I don't think he will answer me now," Vee said, looking at the grisly tropy in his hands. He lifted his head, hearing the sounds of another battle, shouted chants and other terrible dins. He paused to recover his swing action crossbow, tucking another bolt into the weapon with his chewed hand. That would be hurting later. "It sounds like the others need some help," he said, handing her the last packet of dollor powder he had. Aerex would need it, he looked deathly pale, perhaps even paler than good old Jervoe.

Vee hefted the bandit's head under his arm, his chewed hand pressed against the deceased man's cheek, carrying him like a macabre child's toy. Even in the predawn light, the glass orb caught the light in a particularly pleasing manner. He headed back towards where the others were, his crossbow hald tight in his good hand, ready to fire, the hatchet tucked into the belt of his pants, still splattered with the viscid ichor of the slain halfling. "C'mon Jervoe, don't look so long in the face, there are going to be plenty of people happy to see you, and no one is going to make fun of you for your new look. Being bodiless is very slimming." Vee said to the head. "Lets go see how many more zombie children there are to kill."

[Shadoweagle]

Death was a large part of Moruz's life. Friends, enemies, people he didn't even know. After so many years, a soldier in an army gains an affinity with death; It is his closest friend, and his worst enemy, and he always knew when death had arrived.
Aethelstan was dead.
Whether his death was too far for even the intervention of the other priest or not, Moruz did not know, but now was not the time to ponder that. Wrapped in the fervor of battle, the glass shifter twisted his Ouzala out of the head of the first ghoul and moved to plunge the head of it now into the left eye of one which was feasting on Aethelstan's face.
To Moruz's left, the frenzied gnoll, Golkahss Jeszg, was foaming at the mouth and swinging it's long axe wildly at the ghoul currently making breakfast of the fallen cleric's foot. Such a different style of battle, the gnoll had; Where Moruz sheltered his emotions in his mind to engage the enemy with clear thought, the gnoll was nearly berserk on it's own bloodlust and fear; it's attacks may be strong, but they are reckless.

[valadaar]

Kadarin was trying to make sense of the feeling of energy enveloping him from the odd boy, though he was somewhat stunned by Aethelstan's fate.
And that fate could be ours! he thought.

Moruz was swinging his odd glass-studded weapon at the second of the Ghouls. I hope Moruz can handle it... The 3rd one looks like it will be busy with the gnoll.  Hope they kill each other...

He would try and help the valiant cleric, but not with all of the blades swinging nearby.  Besides, have I ever seen anyone survive something like that?

<ooc - Kadarin will continue to try and understand the energy he's recieved and will hold off using the spear until directly attacked, or if Moruz needs help and none others can provide it.  I have no illusions on Kadarins effectiveness with the spear... >

[Ria Hawk]

Satisfied that Aerex would live for the moment, Talia glanced at Vee apprasingly.  She'd seen people go a little mad from stress, but he didn't seem like he was dangerous at the moment.  She looked back at the others.  They were locked in battle, presumably with more ghouls.  She wanted nothing more than to pass out right now, but that was out of the question.  But running back to the others would spend more energy than she had, and would leave only Vee to protect Aerex.  "Vee.  We should really go back to the others, particularly since there's probably more of the little things around.  Help me carry him."

[Murometz]

Meanwhile, a bit further to the East (among the gypsy hills of Hobuluska)

--Glordren looked around once more, then unlatched the cage door, letting the huge balled-up serpent inside free. This particular snake, the Golden-Throated Python, normally inhabited sun-drenched islands across the sea, thousands of leagues to the west, but here at Qil’Vanaros’ “Endless Dream Journey”, Cutthroat Freakshow & Travelling Emporium, it was a prisoner, an attraction provided courtesy of Qil’Vanaros’ “monster hunters”. Harmless as the snake actually was, that fact had not prevented the carnies from exploiting the beautiful emerald and golden-scaled creature, as “The One and Only Dragon-Child from the Mysterious, Uncharted, Western Jungles!”

“Emrissa smiles on you. Seek your freedom!” the priest whispered to the snake. He thought of unlocking the nearby cages of the “The Four-legged Girl” and “Hanging Kang”, as well, just to irk that elf Qil’Vanaros, but thought better of it, as he heard the sounds of approaching people.

Glordren scowled and kept walking, passing revelers and a pair of lovers, who stumbled along merrily, oblivious to the dwarf’s actions. He was behind a row of tents and stalls now, making his way through the dark with ease. Few humans would even notice him in the night, whereas Glordren could see everything clearly.

The dwarven priest had been wandering through the miserable, rain-drenched lands of the Hobuluska Hills for weeks now, and for the last three days had been staying at the Travelling Inn, a mobile establishment, which followed Qil’Vanaros’ troupe to wherever they visited. The Endless Dream Journey was entrenched at the moment in a gargantuan clearing, hidden in the misty hills, where Qil’Vanaros caravan of performers, freaks, fortune-tellers, merchants and groupies chose to set up shop for a week. Folks came from near and far to see the renowned troupe, and soon the giant clearing, sandwiched between the hills, became almost a small town, with hundreds, if not thousands of people descending upon the place like locusts, looking to be entertained, selling or buying wares, or otherwise engaging in social activities, some their to steal, some just passing through.

Glordren had decided to pause from his travels and stay awhile here, hoping to wait out the incessant rains before continuing toward Ganse, as well as enjoying the festivities.

He was looking for a few good men….or dwarves of course, but certainly not elves! The more he studied his scroll, the more he realized he needed some allies, be they willing or ignorant.

The priest paused, deciding whether to double back and sneak a peek at the Four Legged Girl, or drink the night and rain away with more mead. He despised all this rain!

[Murometz]

--Moruz finished off the second ghoul in mid-air. The creature had momentarily dislodged itself from Aethelstan, its meal, and leapt at Moruz! The glass warrior sidestepped the creature and speared him like a suckling pig.

--The gnoll killed the ghoul it was hacking as well, but not before becoming paralyzed, stooped, snarling, glaring, and frozen in place, its long-axe still held high, dripping ghoul paste, as it hovered precariously, clutched tightly in the paralyzed gnoll’s grasp.

--Kadarin stood, still clutching the albino’s hand, still staring at the grisly scene before him, particularly the tragic corpse of Aethelstan, still in shock at his death, yet still feeling a now lessened rush of energy in his body. What had happened here? He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but somehow, Kadarin finally realized that his spells were fresh in his mind once more! How was this possible!?

--Tristan felt all the energy leave his body. He was pleased with the result of his rebuke, but was now exhausted from the exertion. Looking around the repugnant killing field, and noticing no more grave-risen enemies, Tristan allowed himself a moment of respite. He thanked Trigu and lowered himself to the ground, with a heavy sigh, casting an eye toward Moruz, who was already busy cleaning his ouzala, and searching through the gruesome remains of his handy work.


--Dujek had barely moved during the entire battle, sitting in a disoriented fashion, clicking his broken jaw with grunts of pain, and wiping his teary, bulging eye. His concussion was severe, he was deaf in one ear and his mind was not quite right. His lizard now emerged from the ground and climbed up to its master’s shoulder.

“I know one that can help you master”, it thought at the mage.

--All was still for a few moments, then Moruz looked up to see Talia and Vee nearing the riverbank. Talia had a look of determined resignation, as she came up behind Vee, supporting Aerex, as she dragged him along, while Vee had a slightly maddened look, as he carried what looked like a decapitated head, tucked to his side, whispering to it as he walked! An actual grin adorned the rogue's face, as he noticed Moruz. Vee's grin quickly vanished when he saw the ravaged body of Aethelstan lying in the damp earth. Talia let out a heavy, mournful sigh, as she came upon the scene, letting Aerex gently down to the ground. The fearless investigator was slowly returning to consciousness.

--All was still. As a final insult, the skies parted, and a heavy rain began to drench the companions.

[Shadoweagle]

Moruz had finished cleaning down his Ouzala and pocketted the golden orb and mystery powder from the ghouls - it didn't look as though any more ghouls were going to show up. With a final thought, the glass shifter reached into a fold of his tunic and pulled out a pair of mirrored coins - his last two. "I was saving these for the thief..." he uttered to nobody in particular, and lowered next to Aethelstan's ravaged face, placing them over his eyes. The cleric was more deserving.

"Time to move." No hint of expression on his features, the glass shifter walked away from Aethelstan's corpse, idly wiping the clerics blood off his fingers with a torn rag, which he then discarded. Ouzala in one hand and rested idly against his shoulder, he peered ahead to where the bandit camp would be.

[EchoMirage]

The revelry around was a palpable mass of human emotion, and Glordren could almost see the flows of coin pulsing through the place, with steady trickles flowing towards the sellers of refreshments, minstrels caressing the strings of their instruments, or the petty thieves. Ah, everywhere there was trade, there were parasites. Earlier that eve, the dwarf had caught a sweet-talking harlot trying to sneak her paw into his belt-pouch. He had caught said appendage and held it until the girl turned all shades of red and purple. "Gi(r)ve back(r) what you stole earlier this e(r)ve, (r)wench, to th(r)ose it rightfully belongs, or it's o(r)ff wi(r)th yer arm", his accent soaking through, adding 'r's where they definitely did not belong - most probably, he'd never be rid of this accent, but so be it: others may hear that he is a dwarf, as tr(r,r,r)ue as they come.
After he let go of her, Glordren followed the girl with his gaze, wondering whether she'd learn. Sooner or later, someone who caught her would not be so level-headed, and leave her in the gutter, bleeding.

Wandering amongst the celebrating masses of humanity, the priest drew the hood of his cape lower. "This is just prrrecious" he grunted. Men of sense and reason would certainly withdraw to dryer places, men of reason he'd need. One arm, though righteous and mighty it may be, will not prevail against all foces of chaos.
There it was! An old ship, placed on a ten-wheeled carriage as to be able to travel over land, stripped of sails, with light shining from its bullseyes, and a door crafted into the side, a sign reading "Landlubber's Inn" over the door. Would this be the place to go? "As goo(r!)d as any", Glordren thought.

Taking a seat at a corner table, he ordered a thick broth - no sense in wasting his reserves of travel-bread and battle-bread - and eyed the occupants of the establishment, carefully examining and evaluating them. Were there (tharr!) any gold dublones amonst the coppers populating this place? Any men worthy of adventuring with him? If not, he'd wander outside to look for allies elsewhere - perhaps the four-legged girl?

What sort of company did he need? For certain, some archer or magic user, another fighter to stand by his side and someone skilled at unlawful entry, to deal with eventual traps (there are sure many of THOSE around here!) ... but he'd see what sort of fellows he stumbles across.

[Scrasamax]

"How fitting," Vee said as the rain started to pelt down. "Do the skies weep for the slain, for good Aethelstan, devoted of Senren? Or does the rain fall cold and mocking?" Vee asked. He looked skyward, not wanting to see the ravaged body of the young priest, to see the boot that had been chewed through by one of the ghouls, to see the hideous wounds in his cheek, one had been eating his face. Such horrors chilled him, but at the moment it was too much. It was all a bit too much. Yet there was a certain morbid gaity to it, something that made him want to laugh. He was still alive, despite Red Hatchet, and the man who had operated the mounted crossbow.

Vee plucked the hemisa and circlet from Jervoe's head; still holding the gruesome trophy he presented the glass orb to the glass-shifter. He knew it was important to the man, it was literally the physical representation of his life. "We should make sure he receives a proper burial, he deserves nothing less than that, and a great deal more in truth."

"But before we retire for the day, we should investigate the camp, see what else there is to be had there. It is why we came and to leave it unpillaged now would be a waste. We should also burn these dead things, lest they rise again. A pyre for all of them."

[OOC - Return Hemisa to Moruz, take the necklace of coins from Pickles, return to the bandit camp and loot the place, and make a bonfire out of the remnants of the camp and burn the bodies of the ghouls. Perhaps Kadarin can supply us with some firepower? Vee is somewhat off his rocker right now, but it is nothing that a hot bath, long night's sleep, two tankards of ale and a pretty redhead can't set straight

[valadaar]

Kadarin found Vees words appropriate to the occasion.

I understand that testing the faithful is what gods do, but this? looking down at the corpse, the mirrored coins on it's sightless eyes catching what little light was present.  He died with his god on his lips.  I suppose he wanted it that way...

He suspected that Senren would have some explaining to do when Aethelstan stood before him.

"And what of the Gnoll? ", looking at the paralyzed beast.  "When it recovers, will it still be in it's fury?"

Just run it through and be done with it! he thought. Best to see what the others think though...

[Shadoweagle]

Moruz nodded faintly at the gift of his hemisa - his calm demeanor belying his gratitude for the return - and he slid it back upon his head. The glass shifter paused in his stride and turned back to study the corpse of Aethelstan at Vee's words. "That is your tradition and do it if you will, but I do not see how hiding his body from the world by submerging it in soil does him honour. Perhaps you have wondered why I place mirrors over the eyes of the dead? It represents the reflection of the soul - His after-life will be a reflection of his life. This is the greatest honour - or the greatest curse - there is."
Though Moruz still appeared the same, he seemed much more calm with that circlet over his head. Expressing his own culture's beliefs was more than he would have given to an outlander two days ago.

To Kadarin's question of the gnoll, Moruz shifted his gaze to take the entire group in, "Do not think to attack the gnoll unless it tries to attack us first: It exchanged its aid in battle for freedom, and so it is free."

[Dozus]

Pain.  Relief.  Exhaustion.  They all came at once as Aerex's mind returned to the waking world.  His first thought was to sleep, the forced unconsciousness having drained his energy.  Gotta fight it, he thought.  The chief medic at the Royal Constabulary had always said to fight sleep after being wounded, or else one might not awake.  Slowly he forced his eyes open.  The sight that greeted him reviled them to almost close.  Brother Aethelstan's mangled body lay open and bloodied, an oddly peaceful expression across his face.  Gods! he thought, his tongue too tired to form the words.  Why him?  What has he done to deserve this?  Having seen the injustice of crime in the slums of Jantir, he knew no answer would suffice.  Let it be, or the outrage would be too much.

He diverted his eyes, overlooking the rest of the scene.  Cold rain was now falling around him, perhaps water to clense the bloody scene.  All the undead were now - dead?  Redead?  Leastwise no longer a threat.  Vee seemed obsessed with carrying one of the ghoul's heads, muttering incoherently.  There's the fool that saved my life, he thought wryly.  Moruz, his circlet now replaced, crouched down to place two of his glass coins over the fallen priest's eyes.  It was fitting, but perhaps Tristan would know the proper burial ritual of Aethelstan's order.  Aerex was never much for religion, but they owed the cleric that much.  Kadarin and Talia looked appropriately mournful.  One of the gnolls (what happened to the other one?  He couldn't remember) lay on the ground, apparently dead.  Dujek, too, was prone, looking half dead himself.  His reptile perched on his shoulder, staring intently (for a lizard, anyway) at his master's wounds.

The injured constable licked the moisture from his lips, the cool rain providing some refreshment.  He felt energy slowly building up, maybe just enough to rise.  He pushed his leg out to rise - and quickly retracted it, pain shooting upwards.  He looked down and painfully saw the chunk of flesh missing from his thigh.  Oh, right, he thought dryly.  The undead.  He pushed his other leg forward and managed to rise to a sitting position.  He sighed, them swallowed to clear his throat.  "What now," he stated quietly.